Forever Valentine Read Free Page A

enter.
    “Please come in, Ian.”
    “You say that with such resignation. As if you’ve been expecting me.”
    Jena shrugged. “I knew from the moment I saw you in that restaurant, you would show up here sooner or later.”
    Ian sighed dramatically. “How the mighty have fallen. I’ve become predictable in my old age.”
    Jena chuckled as he swept past her into the small foyer of her house. He had a quirky sense of humor and it took her by surprise.
    “I’ll grant that you’re probably much older than me, but you give the appearance of being only a few years my senior. So the ‘old age’ thing just won’t work.”
    “Ah, the impertinence of youth.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “But then what’s an immortal to do?”
    Jena ushered him into the small, heated greenhouse that was attached onto the back of her home. It was a refuge in the sheltering greenery of her private backyard. She kept a small wine cooler in the room for when she needed to unwind after a long day—or night—at the hospital. There were also a multitude of candles just waiting to be lit around a small patio set with a table and two chairs.
    “Will you join me in a glass of Beaujolais Nouveau? Can your kind drink that?”
    Ian actually shivered. “It is a delicacy to me. The first wine…the closest thing to sunshine I will ever feel again.”
    Jena was touched by his unexpectedly poetic words as she bent to retrieve a fresh bottle from her private stock in the wine cooler. When she straightened from her task, Ian was already seated, and several of the nearest candles were lit.
    “You move fast,” she nodded toward the flickering tapers.
    “When the need arises.” Ian bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement.
    Smiling, Jena set the wine bottle before him, along with a cork screw. “Will you do the honors?”
    “Gladly.”
    Ian made short work of the wrapper and cork, allowing the wine to breathe a bit while Jena reached behind her for a pair of crystal glasses. He really had impeccable manners, like something right out of the pages of history. But then, that’s essentially what he was. He had lived in gentler times and had the manners to prove it.
    Jena could not let herself forget that regardless how polite he was now, Ian was a cold-blooded killer. Not only had he embraced the darker side of existence when he became a vampire, but the work he did as an enforcer for the vampire hierarchy only honed his deadly skills. It was his job to hunt down rogues among his kind, dispense justice, and protect the secrecy of their existence from all mortals.
    She guessed he had also dealt with other kinds of supernatural beings throughout his many years on earth. Intrigued, she tried to imagine just a little bit of what he had lived through in his centuries. The things he must have seen. The places he must have lived. It boggled the mind.
    “I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that.” Ian’s voice floated from out of the night. The candles were for her benefit, she knew. Vampires could see quite well in the dark.
    “Like what?” She tried to be nonchalant, but it was clear she’d been caught staring.
    Ian poured the wine calmly. “Like you’re wondering just what horrible things I’ve done over the centuries.”
    Damn. “So are you a mind reader as well as a vampire?” Jena lifted the glass and tried to brazen it out.
    “Sometimes. Though it’s more my skill at reading facial expressions and body language than anything psychic. And you’re wonderfully easy to read, Jena.” He toasted her with his glass.
    “So much for a woman’s air of mystery.”
    Ian drank a small sip from his glass and appeared to truly savor it. The look on his face was that of a man who had touched the sublime. Jena knew the Beaujolais was good. It came from Atticus’ vineyard, after all. Atticus was a vampire who had spent centuries perfecting his vines and his wine making craft.
    “Oh, your mystique is in tact, doctor. Never fear.” Ian cradled